Partisans of Grief - Misery Index

The voices clash and debate

So many wrongs to right

Their bleeding heats flow never-ending

(Like their appetites)

«Left» on a front line they can’t defend

(Why try to pretend?)

Spouting invectives

One way directives

Sleep well, night-watchman

(Privilege has its own objectives)

Blind ambitions

Death processions

Selling our tragedies

(Emotional pornography redeemed)

Partisans, wake the world to sorrow

Pantagruels, rouse your buried woe

Partisans, face your black tomorrow

Swans songs from death’s throat

Boiling in a plight of circumstance, dismayed

Running off when raging seas get rough to save themselves

We all know this ship is sinking fast

The Captain’s on his own

The devil’s die is cast, for Eschaton

You fuel the problems you profess to solve…

Our weary world embedded

With avarice and vice

Like insects locked in amber

They’re corpses locked in ice

With silence their companion

And death their destination

They tread, slogging onward

Callously unchanged